estant, could look upon him only
with abhorrence. At all events, after the rescue of her father's life,
and her acquaintance with Mr. Reilly, the prisoner at the bar was
rejected with disdain, as he would have been, it seems, if Reilly never
had existed. Now, gentlemen I of the jury, observe that Reilly was a
Catholic, which was bad enough in the eyes of the prisoner at the bar;
but he was more; he was a rival, and were it not for the state of the
law, would, it appears, for there is no doubt of it now, have been
a successful one. From henceforth the prisoner at the bar marked Mr.
Reilly for vengeance, for destruction, for death. At this time he was
in the full exercise of irresponsible authority; he could burn, hang,
shoot, without being called to account; and as it will appear before
you, gentlemen, this consciousness of impunity stimulated him to the
perpetration of such outrages as, in civil life, and in a country free
from civil war, are unparalleled in the annals of crime and cruelty.
"But, gentlemen, what did this man do? this man, so anxious to preserve
the peace of the country; this man, the terror of the surrounding
districts; what did he do, I ask? Why, he took the most notorious
robber of: his day, the fierce and guilty Rapparee--he took him into his
councils, in order that he might enable him to trace the object of
his vengeance, Reilly, in the first place, and to lead him to the
hiding-places of such unfortunate Catholic priests as had taken refuge
in the caves and fastnesses of the mountains. Instead of punishing this
notorious malefactor, he took him into his own house, made him, as he
was proud to call them, one of his priest-hounds, and induced him to
believe that he had procured him a pardon from Government. Reilly's name
he had, by his foul misrepresentations, got into the _Hue-and-Cry_, and
subsequently had him gazetted as an outlaw; and all this upon his own
irresponsible authority. I mention nothing, gentlemen, in connection
with this trial which we are not in a capacity to prove.
"Having forced Reilly into a variety of disguises, and hunted him like
a mad dog through the country; having searched every: lurking-place in
which he thought he might I find him, he at length resolved on the only
course of vengeance he could pursue. He surrounded his habitation, and,
after searching for Reilly himself, he openly robbed him of all that was
valuable of that gentleman's furniture, then set fire to the ho
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